Mother
by Daisy Azalea
Summary: Everyone said San was cursed, and that she was responsible for her mother's illness and her death. Forte knows that this can't be true. Ten years after Saria's death, he decides to find out what really happened to her and bring closure to himself and the rest of the Sherard family. [DISCONTINUED]


_**I do not own Mamotte! Lollipop (Save Me! Lollipop). Please read until the very end. Enjoy!**_

Mother

Chapter One: July 17th

Everyone said San was cursed. They blamed her for her mother's death. They condemned her. They _hated_ her, just because she was different. Ten years ago, on July 17th, San's mother passed away, and the entire family blamed San for it.

Her mother always told her to keep on smiling, to always be happy. She _is_ happy now. She has Forte, her cousin, her best friend. If only her mother could see how happy she is with him. If only her mother could see that her happy smile was genuine.

Or, at least, she thought it was.

* * *

San slowly opened her eyes and awakened from her slumber. The soft morning sunlight beamed through the window shade and washed her room with a yellow-white. She heard the birds chirping their sweet songs, and she could see their shadows dancing from tree branch to tree branch. She rolled on her side to check the time. The violet alarm clock rested on the nightstand. The time was eight o'clock, the usual wakeup time.

The clock also had the date in a tiny format on the bottom.

 **17/07/20XX**

July 17th.

The anniversary of her mother's death.

She closed her eyes. She remembered that day like it was yesterday. That day proved to be the saddest part of her life. She loved her mother more than anything. She also missed her more than anything.

"San!" Forte's voice called, interrupting San's thoughts. "Are you awake? Breakfast is done. Come down when you're ready."

San quickly snapped out of her thoughts. She tidied up her bed and, still in her pajamas, went downstairs to have breakfast with Forte.

Forte was wearing his everyday clothing, along with his cooking apron. His hair was wet, evident he had just taken a shower. He had prepared blueberry pancakes for breakfast. It was one of his favorites, and San's as well. He prepared the plates, one for him and one for her, and took a seat at the small table in the kitchen.

San ate very slowly and was very quiet, which was odd for her. She was a morning person, so usually she would be cheerful and hyper. She would eat her breakfast quickly and ask for seconds. But today, she was just not acting like herself.

"Hey," Forte began, "is everything okay? You're a little quiet this morning."

San kept her eyes to her plate and nodded. She took another forkful of blueberry pancake and slowly guided it to her mouth. She chewed slowly, then swallowed. She repeated the process again.

Forte raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice heavy with suspicion. "You better not be lying to me."

San gently placed the fork down. Her eyes were still glued to the plate. Without looking up, she asked with her voice just above a whisper, "Do you know what day it is, Fo?"

Forte hesitated, then looked at the calendar that rested in front of him. The number seventeen had a big red circle around it. "Yes, how could I forget?" he replied, realizing what the date meant. "It's July 17th."

San did not look up.

"It's been ten years…" Forte stated softly, "We should do something special. How about getting an extra large bouquet of flowers?"

San stood up abruptly and placed her plate of unfinished pancakes on the counter by the sink.

"You didn't even finish eating! I thought you loved blueberry pancakes," Forte whined.

"I want to visit my mother's grave," San murmured, her voice dark. "I'm going upstairs to get ready. We'll leave to get the flowers when I'm done." She turned and went upstairs to her room.

* * *

Forte held the large bouquet of flowers as he and San entered the cemetery. There seemed to be no one around. It was just him, San, and the gentle breeze that made the untrimmed grass dance.

San walked to where her mother's gravestone was, and Forte followed. He noticed a change in San's demeanor when she suddenly shouted, "Mama!" and snatched the bouquet from him. She sprinted to her mother's resting place. Her smile was spread from ear to ear.

San placed the flowers on the ground and kneeled. "Hi, Mama!" she said. "I brought these flowers for you! Lilies and roses… the ones you liked!" She giggled. "I passed the sorcery exam, Mama. Fo helped me. Aren't you proud?"

Forte approached San, but he made sure to keep his distance. He could hear her talking, and it broke his heart that her mother could not be alive to see all of their accomplishments.

San continued to giggle. Her voice was high and happy, as if she was about to burst into song. "Look at how I'm smiling. This smile is just for you, Mama! Just like you said, I need to keep smiling! Don't you like my smile, Mama? Aren't you proud?" She paused. Her head lowered, her hands were folded and close to her body.

Forte came closer. He stood to the side so he could see San's face.

"Aren't you proud, Mama? Mama…" Her voice was breaking. "I miss you, Mama." San's voice cracked, and her eyes were sad. There was no evidence of any tears, though.

Forte put his hand on San's shoulder to comfort her. She looked at him, then quickly looked away. They remained there in silence for quite a while.

Footsteps could be heard approaching, followed by a raspy voice saying, "You shouldn't have come here."

San's eyes widened because she recognized the voice instantly. The voice that yelled at her, alienated her, the voice that scolded her mother, the voice that tortured her. It was her grandfather.

She stood up and turned around slowly. Her arms began to shake with anxiety. He looked much older than the last time she saw him. He now had a cane and a stubbly, gray beard that desperately needed to be shaved or grown out. Taking in his new look, San took a deep breath and said, "Grandfather."

"You shouldn't have come here," Grandfather repeated. " _How dare you._ How can you even visit your mother, _my daughter's,_ grave after what you did, you cursed child? It's _your_ fault she got sick and died. How can you live with yourself, bringing such disrespect and shame upon our family?" He turned his attention toward Forte. "And _you,_ " he began, "I cannot believe you, of all people, would associate yourself with an evil child such as _her._ I thought so highly of you, yet you would rather be with this trash than the rest of our respectable family."

Forte's hands formed into fists as anger and irritation took hold of his body. Trash? San? What a wretched thing to say to a fifteen year old girl. She never did anything wrong. And this family? Respectable? How can a family that outcasts one girl for being different be respectable?

That's it. She is not cursed. She is different.

Forte approached his grandfather, and the deep hatred he had for him as a child was bubbling up. It found a way into his words. "Now you listen here, old man," he said with a warning tone, "San is not evil. San is not cursed. There is absolutely nothing wrong with her. You sound like a whiny child, relying on name calling to make your point." His brow furrowed in anger and he took a step closer. "How could you call your own granddaughter trash? How could you say we have a respectable family? All I see is embarrassment, and it's because of _you._ The only trash I see here is _you_. You're a disgusting, disgraceful, _ugly_ old man. You should be-"

Before Forte had time to finish his statement, his grandfather swung his arm and landed a powerful punch on his grandson's cheek.

"Fo!" San exclaimed in horror, watching her cousin slam on the ground. She ran to him.

"You'd better watch your mouth, boy," Grandfather threatened as he quickly approached with thudding footsteps. With a gasp, San covered her head with her hands to protect herself. He grabbed her by the collar of her dress and lifted her up. "Listen to me, _cursed child_ ," he said, his hot breath filling her ear, "if I _ever_ see you here again, there will be consequences. I am the strongest sorcerer in this family. Do not think for a second that I will hesitate to destroy you, just as you destroyed my daughter. Understand?"

San shook under her grandfather's grasp. She struggled to breathe. For that moment, she was afraid he was going to hurt her. "Yes, sir," she squeaked. He threw her to the ground and hobbled off.

San quickly caught her breath and ran to Forte, who was now sitting up and rubbing his reddened cheek. "Fo, are you alright?" she asked, her voice breathy.

"Yeah," he replied as he stood up. He dusted himself off and looked in the direction his grandfather just walked. "What a terrible old man," he said with disgust, "I don't care who he is. A man like that deserves no respect."

"No, it's okay, Fo," San whispered, "It's my fault. We shouldn't have come here."

Forte's eyes widened. "What?"

"It's my fault she died, anyway. It's my fault she was sick. It's my fault. Everything is my fault. We shouldn't have come here."

"No, that's not true," Forte defended.

"Let's just go home!" San shouted. She sprinted out of the cemetery, leaving Forte surprised and in the dust.

* * *

When the two arrived home, San rushed to her bedroom and slammed the door. Forte wanted to follow so he can comfort her, but he was afraid of irritating her any more. He put ice on his now swollen cheek, and took a seat at the kitchen table. He thought about the first time he met San's mother. She was stunningly beautiful, and she seemed quite happy and calm for someone that was as sick as she was. She was so young, too. How can someone so young suddenly get so ill?

Unless there _was_ someone that put a curse on her. But who would want to curse such a lovely woman? Everyone blamed San for her illness, but there was just no way that could be true, could it?

This curiosity he had about San's mother had been plaguing him for years. He had to find out the truth. Did someone really curse her? Exactly what illness did she have? Did it really have something to do with San, or was the family just using her as a scapegoat?

Forte knew what he had to do. He had to ask around the family to find out what truly happened. He was at the ripe age of seventeen. He was old enough to understand. He was nearly an adult. He wanted to know what happened to San's mother, and he was darn sure he was going to find out; _starting with his own mother._

* * *

 **Hi, everyone! Welcome to my second story on . I hope you all enjoyed it. Now that I have more free time, hopefully I will be able to update this regularly.**

 **Just a quick note: In the very beginning when San sees the date on her clock, it says 20XX because there is no specific year in which this takes place. It takes place three years after the initial series. So I guess you, as the reader, can determine what year it is. Also, the date is in DD/MM/YYYY format because that's the format Asia (and pretty much the rest of world) uses.**

 **Also, this takes place in the Magic World, not the Human World… just in case you were wondering.**

 **Well, that's all I have to say. Thanks for reading!**


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